Fleas - Songs of the Gnolls I

THE GREAT WALL 5.1

The moon looked so peaceful in the sky. So oblivious to all trouble, to all evil. And Fátrwa the Silent Death felt so close to it because of the height. Under the roof where she slept, the footsteps of the human guards could be heard. Footsteps of the enemy, ignoring the death that stalked them. Soon the changing of the guard would be over, and then the Wind Paws would move. There were six of them beside her, each more skilled than the last.

The trumpets sounded, soft in the chaos, but shrill in the silence of the night. The human stumbled away. He was drunk. Fátrwa did not need to see him, she could hear his clumsy steps and irregular breathing. Fátrwa gave an almost imperceptible signal, and the Wind Paws jumped down from the rooftops onto the adarve. They split up, three on one side, four on the other, and entered the guardhouse. They were to forage for food, as they did every night. Now and then they had the luxury of hunting an animal, on days when the wind hid their footsteps, but if they abused it, the humans would be suspicious. Fátrwa's black cloak made a shadow of her in the darkness, and her footsteps were inaudible to any creature, no matter how good its hearing. When the torchlight dimmed and shone in her direction, she hid in a corner, under a table, or behind a bookshelf, not even breathing. She had felt the breath of the soldiers on her nose, unable to discover her. If she was discovered, she had two options: to put the enemy to sleep with her singing, or to kill them. Both were bad because they would only prolong the inevitable failure.

A light. Fátrwa looked in all directions and chose the best hiding place, where the moonlight streaming through a window cast a thick shadow. There she crouched and waited. The other three Wind Paws copied her. The sentry walked on without even breaking stride. Fátrwa wondered what would happen if they had at least some sense of smell or hearing. They continued on to the warehouse that was so familiar to them. Fátrwa waved her hand; Vrea, the youngest of them all, unlocked the padlock with two curved pieces of metal. Fátrwa did not know how she had become so skilled in such a short time. With silent signals they decided what to take so as not to alert the guard. Meat was scarce, sometimes they even had to make do with vegetables, but her stomach did not tolerate them very well. Fátrwa added some seeds to the theft. With these they would hunt some birds near the abandoned keep, the only one of the Great Wall that had collapsed and never been repaired.

They returned. Fátrwa climbed with feline agility onto her favorite roof, the one made of woven straw. It was not the most stable, but it was comfortable to sleep on. She ate the booty, a dried pig's foot, down to the bone. Tomorrow they would move north, for the Wall was long and it was a risk to stay in one place too long. They would no longer have the protection of the collapsed keep, but it didn't matter. Winter was not far away. At any moment, the marching footsteps of all the non-human tribes would be heard. And at that moment, they would be the ones to open the doors, after getting rid of the guards. They had left ropes in several places that were invisible from the wall, and it was even difficult to see them underneath, as they were camouflaged by the stone. They had also damaged the ballistas and placed some traps in the armories. Traps that would explode and turn the bolts and arrows against their owners. The food they did not steal was poisoned with sleeping powders and various substances that weakened the body over time. The work of an ant stripping the thickest tree.

Fátrwa lay down again and looked at the moon. She seemed to remember the conversation with Kkrya: she had given her this task when Fátrwa had suggested simply killing the leaders. It would have been easier, a shadow in the night, a knife at the throat, and with the chaos they could have easily finished them off. They were already on the other side of the wall, which was the hard part, but Kkrya had insisted. According to her, this tactic would avoid many deaths. Fátrwa was not so sure. Few lives mattered to her enough to risk such an infiltration. Maybe only her companions, who were the ones in danger at the moment... And him.